Thursday, December 19, 2013

She (Harsha, the protagonist of the novel) felt sleepy
at the tender touch of Alberto. She began to melt down at a moment she knew
not.

She stretched herself bare like the fodder to be eaten

Lord had leaned upon her with passionate hunger

A wild fire ran through all her veins

To be extinguished by the hope of the Lord

Showed He the ‘Biswarupa’ the mystery of creation

The original source of energy, all the worldly essences
of science

The Lord bowed down with folded hands

Saw the apple in the garden of Eden, setting aside the
creepers and bushes

Licked the first softness with the tongue of Basuki

To the last drop of the pot of nectar on the lips

Satan also changed at the moment

What was apparently a sin, he thought,

Now turned into a merit (Punya).

She lay on the
bed contented like an enkindled soul. Alberto also lay supine on the bed. It
was difficult to delve deep into the recesses of his mind. As though he had
given everything and become penniless. Harsha was afraid to touch him. Both of
them were speechless. Nothing to speak, neither a thing of joy nor sorrow.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“She was as if
on the operation table

A body senseless shrouded by a white sheet

The heartless man under a green mask and in green apron

Eyes glowing

Knife in one hand and a forcep in the other

Her sorrows and agony unreachable to him

His throbbing heart alien to poetry and love

As if he knew only

the parts of the heart, veins and arteries,

Heart was merely a pumping machine

Quite unaware of the region where a line

Of poetry lay hidden.

The man treated Harsha as a lump of flesh

to be squeezed and pressed

She lay on the operation table

A motionless body in pain

Her groaning never reached him.

His both hands in glove

On her pair of soft and tender blossoms

His hands harsh bereft of any thrill

The titillating touch could have excited her

But she was hurt and wounded

The beastly man entered the dark lane with a knife

As if hungry for a long time

To satiate the insatiable.

Yes, to quench the insatiable hunger."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harsha was thrilled recapitulating the afternoon
experience. She had bared out her body on Alberto’s bed exhausted after
love-making. She didn’t know how all these things happened. Harsha had
displayed her showcase of sorrows, which she had never done earlier before
anybody. All the suppressed agonies were let loose from a closed cell after a
long time. Have some tears rolled on along with the sorrows? Why did Alberto
lift her up to his chest? The long standing stillness of their bodies suddenly
broke and both of them unconsciously merged with each other. She felt sleepy at
the tender touch of Alberto. She began to melt down at a moment she knew not.

She stretched herself bare like the fodder to be eaten

Lord had leaned upon her with passionate hunger

A wild fire ran through all her veins

To be extinguished by the hope of the Lord

Showed He the ‘Biswarupa’ the mystery of creation

The original source of energy, all the worldly essences
of science

The Lord bowed down with folded hands

Saw the apple in the garden of Eden, setting aside the
creepers and bushes

Licked the first softness with the tongue of Basuki

To the last drop of the pot of nectar on the lips

Satan also changed at the moment

What was apparently a sin, I thought

Now turned into a merit (Punya).

Harsha lay on the bed contented like an enkindled soul.
Alberto also lay supine on the bed. It was difficult to delve deep into the
recesses of his mind. As though he had given everything and become penniless.
Harsha was afraid to touch him. Both of them were speechless. Nothing to speak,
neither a thing of joy nor sorrow.

As though she experienced it for the first time: an
overflowing warmth in her body. Her life had attained a fulfilment at the very
first union, uncanny though. Of course, Alberto lay beside her lifeless.
Setting his legs aside slowly, Harsha got up from the bed. But Alberto
continued in the same posture. She was eager to softly move her hand on
Alberto’s body, and read his feelings. She wanted to know the feelings of
Alberto. This unimpressive man also appeared to her as the most handsome; she
called: ‘Alberto.’

Alberto got up and sat leaning against the cot. An
indefinable void in his look. As if he had been internally torn to pieces and
had been totally drained out of his energy.
Somewhere was there an agony: it was clearly perceptible in his eyes.
Harsha hesitated to speak anything. Alberto smiled but it did not naturally go with
the depression writ large on his face. Are you all right, Alberto? Are you not
unhappy? She wanted to put a lot of such questions, but was afraid to do so. It
is quite natural for a woman to be upset at such an incident. She had to brood
over with a sense of guilt, her existence would have been shattered to pieces.
Harsha would have felt as if she had lost everything, but it was other way
round. Was Alberto unhappy because his abstinence was gone? Has this Buddhist
been battered both in heart and soul by his sense of sin stemming out of his
transgression? Is the man who firmly believed in abstinence unhappy for
treading on the path of instinct? No, it was not the time to raise such
questions. It is better to leave him alone: ‘Let me go, Alberto’, said Harsha.
He uttered in a half awakened state: ‘Bye’. He did not come even to see her
off. Harsha came out of the place with a tremendous sense of distress and pain.

Harsha felt as if a sage had broken down in grief for
moral degradation. Whatever happened was not at all predestined but only an
accident. A dormant desire as though had been waiting for a chance to be
quenched. Both of them had entered an enchanting world, having been under the
magical spell for a moment. Alberto had forgotten about ‘Nirvana’ (Salvation),
Harsha also forgot her frigidity, her agony.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harsha and Alberto. Eventually, they are drawn to each
other and tied in the bond of love. Harsha is glad for the revival of a new
life, a fresh urge to live with the foreigner friend and lover. The woman for
whom all the doors were apparently closed from all quarters finds the new found
love reinvigorating and life-sustaining. She unhesitatingly accompanies Alberto
to Rishikesh and they are lost in the amazing beauty and splendour of nature :

When the dark clouds shrouded all around

Give signals of downpour of torrential rain

A gush of cold wind,

With the drops of rain, drip, drop, drop;

The dry earth gets wet

The spiralling warm smell of the soil stirs the mind

and maddens the heart

Where would she hide herself?

Where are the walls and the protecting roof?

Where is that loving lap of promises?

Leaving the deep dense forest

Can she lie in mother’s lap protected?

Should she hide herself? Can she avoid the smell
pungent of the soil?

The fall of incessant rains

No, no fear for hailstorm nor lightning

No mind to go back leaving the deep dense forest

She could know as if a drop of rain

Flowed down her undergarments secretly,

moved towards the pair of tender flowers

Without the notice of anybody and with the touches

When eyes were closing in happiness

the rain held her in close clasps.

While enjoying the affection of rain

All through the body she understood

nothing is there in her control.

Being exhausted she would know

the down pour of rain on the body

Her mortal coil submerged under water

The rain all through her veins and arteries

She had nothing to do

And she could do nothing.

(Note for readers: It is for Harsha a fulfilment and
consummation. But Alberto

claiming himself to be a Buddhist and believing in
abstinence does not take this

physical relationship normally.)

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harsha, the protagonist of the novel, married to a male
chauvinist doctor who is thoroughly addicted to alcohol, to whom she deserts
and comes back to her parents, determined never to go back. During her stay in
Delhi, she develops an association with a visiting professor in Philosophy
named Alberto whom she meets at the Car Festival in Puri. Alberto is a
Portuguese and has immense respect and interest for Indian philosophy, her
ancient history and heritage. But did they love? Below, a realization of
Harsha, excerpted from the novel Goddess
in Exile.:

Now I have to return along the road

that I have trodden for the last one year.

Some familiar trees some houses known

know not whether they are still there at the particular
places?

Walked along together for one year

In order to get over the fatigue of walking

I unlocked my grief stricken heart

And you simply nodded like the fairytale Prince.

Because you were there by my side

I did not look at the yellow birds on the road

Nor did I care to glance at the rainbow

Nor did I look at the tiny mud-coated bodies of small
children

Nor did I see the sprouting or withering of flower
petals

But you simply nodded your head like the fairytale
Prince.

Never did you tell your sorrow

What kind of journey is this?

How long one can walk together

With a traveller like you ?

Your ego devoured you each time and takes you out,

Every time you get depressed and take rebirth

before you said something.

Ego is the sandals of your feet

the dress of your body

the glasses of your eyes

your wrist watch

and the powder of your face.

So many days we walked together

I narrated my sorrow and you simply nodded

You were so hard beneath a simple ‘yes’

Had I known earlier, I would have enjoyed

the yellow birds on the boughs

the rainbow in the sky, the muddied small children.

After making an insurance of tremendous faith and hope

when I knew

that your pocket contains the plan of a future town.

With the addresses of the motels and the brothels

I know that your new town is ahead And you will be lost
in the crowd, but you will carry